After the Burning
by Parvulus of Ink
Summary: Edward's life before Bella, starting with his transformation. Rated T for now, I'm paranoid.
1. Prologue

**Edward's life before Bella. **

**Reviews immensely appreciated, but don't feel obliged =]**

**Twilight does not belong to me.**

**All characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer.**

Flying, that's what it felt like. The rush of wind against my body, the cold grip on my arms, it felt like flying.

In reality I was dying.

I had never imagined that it would feel like flying, the sense that gravity had no power, that I was hovering, suspended far from the reach of time and space, that I was free.

But maybe it fell like falling.

Because so soon after the elated feelings of weightlessness, the pain started.

It was the only explanation really; I was falling, down, down, down to the fires of Hell.

The fire that burned so hot.

But not before the pain, the feeling of blood rushing from my body, leaving all sense of humanity behind. The cutting sensation at my wrists, my neck, had nothing on the pain from the fire.

The fire that burned so hot.

Screaming doesn't help. I learned that fast.

But it didn't stop me from screaming in my heart, wishing for someone to kill me.

When I felt the jolt in my heart, and the ever increasing heat, I thought someone had.

But then I opened my eyes to a whole new world.

Soon I wished for the fires of Hell.


	2. Chapter One

**Big ups to my first reviewer on a Twilight story cheesepuff311! Thanks so much!**

**If you have any ideas on what should happen to Edward before Bella, I'd love to hear them! Especially concerning the timeline, sorry if I get it wrong, I'm trying to work it all out =]**

**DISCLAIMER; Twilight does not belong to me**

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_LAST TIME: Soon I wished for the fires of Hell._

I still can't decide if the first hunt was the hardest, or the easiest. In a way, the blood's soothing feel against the dull burn in my throat was Heaven-on-Earth, but that sensation proved to myself what I had become.

And I resented it. But I also realized that after the Titanic had sunk, and people had lost their families, their belongings, their _lives;_ people saved them and they didn't complain.

I was looking for the silver lining. And in a sky with so many clouds, there must have been plenty.

_What have I done? How could I have condemned him to this life? Was his mother right in wanting this for her son?_ Carlisle was worrying again. If he wasn't worrying about how I would take the news that I was a vampire, it was that the thirst was intolerable, or that I missed my parents; if he didn't stop soon, he was going to get gray hairs.

Too consumed by the hunger, the _need _to hunt, to feed, I couldn't stop to reassure him. After draining every drop of blood from the buck in my hands, I dropped it to the ground running my tongue over my lips for any remaining traces of blood, and turned towards Carlisle.

"I don't blame you," I whispered, my eyes on the ground.

"Sorry." His amber eyes, stark in contrast with my own, hovered over my face. Blood red eyes, pale complexion, muscled build, I would have had a heart attack when I saw myself in the mirror if I wasn't already dead.

"Don't blame yourself . . . Carlisle. Really, I don't hold anything against you. Like you said, it's what my mother wanted."

My voiced had caught on that word, mother. All my memories were faded, foggy. Everything before the fire, the hideous, uncontrollable burning, had taken on a otherworldly appearance. The dreamlike quality sometimes made me wonder if they had even occurred.

"No," he chuckled, his eyes wary of any change in my emotion. "I meant: sorry?" his voice turned the word up at the end, into a question.

"You just said, 'What have I done?'" I said, puzzled. How could he have forgotten what he had said less than thirty seconds ago?

"The thing is, I didn't." _Strange, almost like Aro. But Edward isn't touching me . . ._

"Who's Aro?" I questioned, intrigued. "And how do you talk without your mouth moving?" Everything about this was strange, to use Carlisle's word.

"Aro is a vampire, one I stayed with a while ago, he is well over three thousand years old. He lives in Italy, in a coven of his own, with his brothers Cauis and Marcus. What is different about him to other vampires is that he has what is known as a gift. Marcus has one also. Back to Aro though, he can read minds, with physical contact."

"You think I can read minds?" I snorted, vampires, mind reading, it all shouldn't exist! But I was living - or not so living, to look at it that way - proof.

_It would seem so. Edward, if you can hear me, I want you to try something. Relax, just let your mind wander, and see what you can hear._

Closing my eyes, I relaxed, letting my senses go, scanning the air around me.

_. . .There are more strawberries over here! . . ._ I heard to my right, a young voice catching my attention. Turning towards the east, I could hear another noise.

_. . . Musn't touch her la'yships things, no, hands away, leave it be . . ._

"Wow," I whispered, my eyes still shut. Scanning out around me, I could hear everything. We were near the centre of the woods, yet I could hear people playing amongst the trees on the outskirts, hear people discuss politics as they walked down the street miles away.

"Edward?" Carlisle questioned, stepping towards me. "What is it?"

Everything, I wanted to say. Not only the sound, the smell, but the touch. The air pulsed around me, alerting me to every movement. Each scent, almost tangible. Aside from his being, animals in the clearing nearby, the wind in the trees –

The scent. Caught on a breeze, it danced across my face, taunting me with it's delectable smell, it's delicious aroma. Opening my mouth, I could almost taste it on my tongue –

Leaping into the trees, Carlisle had realized what was going on, what he had been waiting for, watching; his anxious, weary eyes now turning into a panicked expression as I darted through the bush.

I slid forward into a crouch, a strange rumbling noise building in my chest.

Letting out the noise – almost a purr- I darted swiftly behind a pine and saw my target.

The strawberry girl. There she was, reaching for the bush of red berries, her skin a delectable shade of peach, and the _scent_ . . .

A rustling in the trees behind me caught my attention, but I was too focused on the hunt to act on any instincts other than the desire I felt for this young girl.

He slammed into me like a brick wall, and a resounding crack echoed through the forest, sounding like two boulders had collided. The little girl, startled by the noise, ran away through the trees.

Writhing and snarling, I tried to escape his grip. I was stronger, but he was more skilled, had more experience. Remaining in my crouch, instinctively I growled at him, defending myself and my prey. He raised his arms in a sign of peace, but I was too far gone to respond to any humanly signal; I was focused on defense and defense alone, and darting forward, I leaped at his throat at blinding speed, my teeth slicing through his rock hard skin.

_The girl is gone Edward, the girl is gone. _Were his only thoughts.

Ripping away from his neck, the need to protect myself had gone. Along with the girl and her delicious blood was the desire to defend my pray. Distraught with myself, I dropped to the ground, leaning unnecessarily against the trunk of a spruce.

He was right, the girl was gone.

What remained was the burning in the back of my throat.

**REMEMBER: Everybody loves a good review =]**


	3. Chapter Two

**I apologize if I get any of the places wrong, I don't live in America so the extent of my knowledge is what Google has to offer me ;P**

**Anyone who has more knowledge of America than "New York City is also known as the 'Big Apple'", help is appreciated!**

**Disclaimer; Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

_LAST TIME: Writhing and snarling, I tried to escape his grip. I was stronger, but he was more skilled, had more experience. . ._

The girl is gone Edward, the girl is gone.

_He was right, the girl was gone._

_What remained was the burning in the back of my throat._

We moved away from Chicago after that hunting trip. Carlisle tried to convince me that he had been planning on moving on for a while, but his thoughts betrayed him.

I knew it was so nobody saw the new me.

The alabaster complexion and muscled build were only the beginning of my transformation.

My emerald green eyes, the eyes of my mother, now glowed a blood red.

The fact that I was supposed to be dead of Spanish Influenza would also cause a problem if I was seen by someone I knew.

We drove Carlisle's car out of town, going several miles faster than the legal limit. The trip that would usually take two or three days would be over in a matter of hours. We were going to Avenmore, in Pennsylvania, ironic in some ways, but we were no Dracula.

Leaving Chicago wasn't hard; I had been planning on leaving in a few months anyway. Promises of glory offered by the war was where I was headed, I was ready to do my part for my country.

Not any more.

If I were to leave to fight in the war now, not only would the bullets not kill me, but drinking the blood of soldiers would probably scare people.

The burn in the back of my throat was ceaseless, and the smell of fresh blood that is inevitable in wars would just send me into a killing frenzy. Animal blood only smothered the flames for a short time, and I wondered why we hunted them instead of humans.

The first time we hunted after leaving Chicago, I built up the courage and asked Carlisle why he had abstained from human blood for so long.

"Why should we take the lives of others? Why should we take their lives, and play God? If you consider what we are to be dead, and resent it, what gives us the right to condemn others to a death not unlike ours? I have never seen any reason to change my mind, and believe me, many have tried."

"But you didn't choose this life, yet you try so hard to protect what you don't have; humanity. What I don't understand is why you resist what you are; maybe fate wanted this for you. Have you ever thought of that?"

"If fate wanted someone to take the lives of others, then they picked the wrong man for the job."

He went silent after that, but in his thoughts I could here him considering my theory.

"Not meaning to be rude or anything, but what have you done for the last few centuries, how did you become - what we are? Some sort of . . . vegetarian vampire?"

Chuckling over the last part, his train of thoughts switched to thoughts of his human life.

"I was the son of an Anglican Pastor in London, England. He was an ambitious man, seeking to 'save' the damned, or so he told others.

"What he was really doing was destroying. He led nightly hunts, seeking out witches, werewolves and - vampires.

"Quick to judge, I know that many of his victims were innocent of any crime against nature, but my father wouldn't listen to my advice, that he should exercise some restraint, some _patience . _. ."

Here he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index and forefinger, closing his eyes. This was strange for Carlisle, whose peaceful demeanor was as much a part of him as his left hand.

"When I took over, I resolved to do better, to spare the innocents. In some ways, this drew a wedge between my father and I. Weeks went by and yet I hadn't 'done anything' about these crimes against humanity. But my patience was going to pay off one night, when I found a coven of _real _vampires living in the sewers under London. In some ways, it was the best hiding place, not many people wanted to venture down there.

"I assembled a mob; we traveled to the alley where I knew where they were hiding. We had torches and pitchforks - looking back now; it all seems rather . . . pathetic." He laughed, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and I knew that the worst was still to come.

"They heard us coming. Of course, they tried to run. There were only three of them, and over a hundred of us. I guess that they realized they would be too distracted by thirst to be able to destroy all of us.

"A majority wanted to stay and guard the sewer, to see if any others would emerge. It was pure cowardliness that kept that group there, they didn't want to pursue the escapees when it could mean death, and many of them had families at home. . .

"A small group followed them, myself in the lead. I knew my father would never let me rest until we had caught them, now that we had seen real vampires.

"One of them - probably driven mad by thirst - attacked. With so many of us, and him so thirsty, it was to be expected.

"He killed a few of my comrades, but I was simply bitten.

"Knowing that anything contaminated by the creature would be destroyed, I dragged myself to a nearby cellar, and hid myself in a pile of potatoes until my transformation was complete.

Here my curiosity got the better of me, and I interrupted his story.

"How did you keep quiet?"

Smiling wryly, he kept his reply brief. "Screaming meant discovery, discovery meant death."

"Oh."

"Once I realized what I had become I left the city, not wanting to inflict myself upon humanity. Ever since I was born I had a - a conscience. In my mind, I was the lowliest creature to walk the Earth.

"In the country, I tried to commit suicide." Shutting his eyes, memories from centuries ago came thick and fast, and I was stunned by the lengths Carlisle had gone to in his attempt to kill himself.

_A cliff, fifty feet high, waves beating upon the rocks as he fell closer . . . A wall of blue, the sound of rushing water - thoughts of suffocation . . . _

_Eventually I tried starvation._

"Starvation?"

"I traveled the countryside, avoiding people. Finally I found a cave, and that is where I exiled myself, and I remained there until I realized what was possible. I was a 'vegetarian vampire', to use your term.

"So I swam to France, and found my passion. I save lives instead of ending them. **[AN; =P]**

"And you said people tried to convince you?"

"Many. As I mentioned before, I stayed with Aro, and his brothers Marcus and Cauis. They are more . . . _traditional _with their food source. I was there for a few decades, and I eventually left because of their continued attempts to sway me in my resolution. So I left Italy and traveled to America, hoping to find others like myself. All searches in vain, I created you after that memorable conversation with your mother."

"And you've _never _killed anyone? You're a vampire who works in a hospital, and you've never once lost control?"

"No. It took almost two centuries of training, but now I do my work free from the fear of losing control. The smell barely affects me anymore."

A rustling in the bushes across the stream caught our attention and reminded us of the reason for our trip.

But I was distracted as we moved in on the herd, and I knew that I wasn't the only one.

**Thanks to all reviewers! Updates should come within the next week or so.**


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer; Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

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LAST TIME: But I was distracted as we moved in on the herd, and I knew that I wasn't the only one.

My entire life had been spent in Chicago, and I'd never really imagined living anywhere else. Even thoughts of the war were centred soley around the battlefield, fighting and bloodshed; I'd never pictured where the soldiers slept or ate.

I was surprised by the beauty of the country as we travelled, the mountain peaks creating beautiful silhouettes against the cloud-striken sky, the brilliant hues of the river as it ebbed and flowed; and I began to imagine taking a similar journey as a human, being able to stop at these wonderful places, to climb the mountain, swim in the water, and be free from the threat of oncoming sunlight, or the possiblity that my thirst would become uncontrollable - and I killed someone.

There was a sense of akwardness, tension that hung in the air, along with the silence, and time seemed to drag on, each second ticking by slowly.

As we travelled, Carlisle took overcast roads, avoiding the sun and places where people would be out, knowing that it would be easier for me to control myself. Neither of us had forgotten the little girl in the woods.

_Edward, are you all right? Do you need to hunt?_

As usual, Carlisle was preoccupied with my happiness, my comfort. I presumed that after living alone for so long, the fatherly instinct in him had been repressed, and had just now reared it's head. I was a real live newborn - temperamental, thirsty and uncontrollable.

"I'm fine Carlisle, really - you worry to much. You're going to get worry lines" I joked, trying to ease the tension that we could both feel emenating in the car.

The burn was there, but nothing unimaginable. So far, the only human I'd gotten close to was the little girl in the woods. After that, I was in no way looking to repeat the experience.

"I've found a job in Avenmore, I will be working at the local hospital. I'll be home at night, but away for a few hours during the day. Are you going to be ok by yourself?" His topaz eyes were full of concern, staring at me as if they could see right into my mind.

Staring back at him, I could.

"I will be fine Carlisle. I can stay in the house."

_Our house is very near the hospital. If you need help I can come home_

"Getting back to the worry lines . . ." I trailed off.

Laughing, he turned his face back to the road as the first few houses of our new home appeared. He let thoughts of the new town fill his mind, and I looked back out the window.

I wasn't sure if it had been there before, but suddenly there was a very dark storm cloud on the horizon . . .

***

When Carlisle left for work, I tried to distract myself.

He had filled the three-bedroomed house with books, hundreds of them lining the shelves in his study, the living room, everywhere.

But when you can read a book in a matter of minutes, they don't captivate your interest for very long.

I took to wandering the house, listening to the errant thought of the humans as they went about their daily business, captivated by the normalness of it all when they were living nextdoor to a couple of vampires.

I didn't go outside, knowing the scent of human blood would be alluring - impossible to resist. The front door stayed closed, only opening when Carlisle arrived home. How he managed to work in a hospital full of sick, bleeding humans was amazing - amazing at the same time as being abnormal behaviour for a vampire.

Some days I would sit in the window seat in the living room, watching the people passing by. What they thought of a pale young man staring at them day in and day out was amusing, their explainations of my presense to themselves strangley origional, and eventually I found their thoughts comforting. Their everyday worries reminded me of my human life, and each day I watched them I would recall another murky, dreamlike memory.

Realising that I craved their trivial human concerns far too much than normal, I began to distract myself with other things, eventually discovering that I hadn't lost my passion for music in the transformation.

I took to writing music, covering sheets and sheets of paper in their complicated notes, weaving melodies and harmonies, almost _hearing _the notes hovering in the empty room when I visualised playing them on a piano, my fingers tracing the keys delicately throught the air.

Whenever Carlisle came home, I hid the papers in my room, embarrassed by the amount of time I was spending, laboring over senseless symbols and lines. But as soon as he left again, the sheets came out again, and my hands would hang in the air, playing music that only I could hear.

One day, Carlisle came home early, and I was so entranced by fixing a bridge, one that didn't sound quite right, that I didn't hear him until he got into the room, and his thoughts punctured my mind.

_Edward! Why didn't you tell me you were musical!_

Hiding my face from his gaze, I felt averse to looking him in the eyes, yet compelled to do so. I felt responsible to show some degree of respect to a man who had been like a father to me when he had no need to do so. Someone who had not only saved my life but continued to help me in a way I did not deserve.

"You'd been so good to me, and I felt bad asking when you'd already given me so much, and yet you never seemed to realise how much I appreciate everything. . . what I guess I'm trying to say is . . . _thank-you. _Everything you've done for me you did out of pure kindness, and I had no way to thank you for that. You may think that you've done me such an inservice, but really, I'm glad that you chose me. I never deserved another chance, yet you gave me one anyway."

For once, Carlisle was both speechless and thoughtless, all traces of calm gone from his usual aura.

His eys looked like if they could have tears they would, and he strode across the room to where I stood, placing a hand on either of my shoulders.

"Edward, you think you have done nothing in return? You have given me the company that I have craved for the last two and a half centuries! _You _have no idea what you've done for me!"

Looking into Carlisle's face, you would have to be blind to see the sincerity in his words, and the relief that I didn't hate him.

_So you're a musician? What do you play?_

"Piano, but I can play a little guitar. . ."

That night the sense of akwardness dissapeared, and I had realised something important. Before we had lived together simply as aquaintences, two people in the same boat; vegetarian vampires with a conscience. Abnormally behaved beings among those of fairy tales. Now we lived together as friends, a family.

It was a strange family, but a family nonetheless.


	5. Chapter Four

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**_LAST TIME; It was a strange family, but a family nonetheless._

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Soon after that night, Carlisle and I went and bought a piano. Nothing spectacular, but it symbolized something more.

Our days in Avenmore continued in the same pattern, Carlisle would leave for work in the morning, I would spend my days on the piano, and when he got home we would go hunting, or he would teach me math and science. Sometimes we would discuss Philosophy, Shakespeare or even Religion.

That was a rather colorful debate.

One day, about a year and a half after moving to Avenmore, I wasn't in the mood for my piano when Carlisle left in the morning. I wandered the house, picking up a book, putting it down, distracted.

I walked into the lounge and sat down at the window seat, something I hadn't done very often since I got the piano. The dismal sky was visible through the curtains, so I pulled them back, looking out at the street in front of the house.

Settling back into the routine of watching the complacent humans pass by, completely ignorant to the 'make-believe' creatures living in their very neighborhood.

The sun was halfway in its journey across the sky when a little girl came skipping down the path, pushing a hoop along with a stick, her face furrowed in concentration.

Preoccupied by the wooden hoop, she didn't notice the ruff of her dress catching under her shoe, and she fell, the weight of her body landing on her outstretched hand.

The girl sat there crying, and I stood up, scanning for the sound of any concerned parents looking for their daughter. The usually busy street was quiet, not a person to be heard.

There the girl sat crying, her tears creating little streaks on her dirty cheeks. The sight of her there made me feel so helpless, an unusual feeling when you are near indestructible. The feelings of concern stirred inside me, and I felt odd as my heart went out to the crying girl.

Concentrating on keeping a human pace, I stood up and walked out the front door, resolving to take her to Carlisle so he could help her.

I wrestled with myself, holding my breath as I walked up the path, determined to help the poor little girl.

_. . . Oh no, mummy is going to be ever so mad, tearing my new dress! I'm going to be in so much trouble, daddy will take away my hoop . . ._

"Hello, my name is Edward. What seems to be the matter?" I said, focusing all my energy on not crushing her arm as she extended it, placing her tiny hand in mine.

Across her palm was a single, red cut.

***

I spent the afternoon wrestling with myself, resolving to go to the hospital only to change my mind when I thought of all the humans that were there . . .

The sun was setting as I heard the door open from where I was pacing upstairs. I jetted down the stairs in a few seconds - my speed hadn't worn off after I left the newborn stage.

_Edward! What's wrong?! I . . ._

His thoughts cut off as he saw my eyes, previously butterscotch, now a scorching, vivid red.


	6. Chapter Five

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**_LAST TIME: His thoughts cut off as he saw my eyes, previously butterscotch, now a scorching, vivid red._

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"I'm so sorry Carlisle! She hurt her hand, and I, I, I just wanted to help! I thought she had broken a bone, there was nobody around! I was going to take her to the hospital, but she had cut her palm, and she was so worried about her dress that I didn't hear it in her mind! I just, reacted, I couldn't stop! And now. . ." I rushed through the words, my head hanging towards the ground.

Carlisle placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping my manic pacing that I had resumed once I stepped in the parlor.

_Edward! Calm down, breathe! Where is she? _Carlisle's cool, logical thinking cut into my thoughts, making me stop.

"I couldn't just leave her outside on the street, she's, she's . . ." I whispered, gesturing towards the dining room with one hand, the other shielding my brilliantly red eyes from his gaze.

"Did anyone see you?" he asked softly. _So that was the girl they came into the hospital looking for. . ._

"No. That's why I went out there, she was all alone, and she was so helpless . . ."

_Edward! Do _not _blame yourself, it was an accident. We need to leave. Pack the things, and I will . . . look after the girl._

"Make sure her parents find her, I hate the thought of them worrying, not knowing what happened to her. . ."

_I promise Edward. Now go._

***

Neither of us spoke as Carlisle drove the car out of town, heading for the town of Belfield in the north of Dakota.

_It was an accident Edward, you need to realize that. You can't keep punishing yourself for something that you have no control over. . ._

"No control!" I snarled, interrupting his thoughts. "Obviously I have no control! I single-handedly killed an innocent girl! Enlighten me Carlisle, because that seems to be entirely my fault!"

_Stop. Did you choose this life? _I hissed, realizing that he was beginning to blame himself for subjecting me to this.

"Carlisle," I warned, but he continued.

_Did you leave the house intending to harm that girl? Tell me, did you not go out there meaning to help her?_

"I guess, but Carlisle, whatever my intentions might be, it doesn't excuse what I did!"

_But your feelings do. You are showing remorse. And you also don't intend on doing it again._

I ignored his logic, turning back to rest my head on the window, the taste of human blood very much on my mind.

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	7. Chapter Six

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**

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_LAST TIME: I ignored his logic, turning back to rest my head on the window, the taste of human blood very much on my mind._

Belfield was very much like Avenmore in the fact that it was rarely ever sunny. While we did not mind the overcast weather, I had to wonder why humans did not seek sunnier climates.

The small town was almost like an extremely large family, and our arrival did not go unnoticed. While I had before been able to remain inconspicuous in my guise as Carlisle's ill nephew, I knew that this town would not be so content to let possible scandal slip through their fingers.

_I start work in an hour. I am sure you will be fine home alone; but would you like me to stay anyway? _Carlisle barely spoke at home now that he had become accustomed to my mind-reading abilities. Often, the only sound in the house for days would be my voice as I replied.

"Carlisle, it's been a whole week. Truly, I'm not suicidal." I said, chuckling softly, but the laughter did not reach my voice. "We've dragged out this "settling in" period for as long as possible. You can start work and I'll be fine at home."

He nodded, but while he was certain that I would be fine, I was not so optimistic. If Carlisle was to leave me alone, who was to know what could happen . . .

"Edward?" Carlisle's head leaned in towards me, his eyes concerned. "Did you hear me?"

Shaking my head, I dropped my gaze to the floor "This is _why _Carlisle. I can't focus; I won't be able to control . . ."

"Enough. You are free to leave, but do you honestly think that it will help? The only thing that will help you overcome your thirst is to be around that which you want most yet cannot have." He paused, closing his eyes. "We've been invited to a farewell party for my predecessor tomorrow night. _We. _I was hoping you would accompany me." He opened his eyes, turning them on my face.

Fear clenched my stomach, how was I supposed to cope in a room full of humans? I could still taste the young girl's blood; feel her heart beating as I bit her, and _the taste_ . . .

"Anyway, it's time for me to leave. You will be fine."

I said nothing as he walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly as he left.

***

Carlisle's hand rested reassuringly on my shoulder as we walked into the room. "Carlisle," I whispered, too low for the humans to hear. I felt afraid. Not a fear of what could happen to me, but what could happen to others _because _of me. Anyone of these humans could die tonight, and they didn't even know what was coming, what was possible.

Their scent hit me with undiluted force, the heat from their bodies pressing against me. I could feel their blood pulsing through their bodies, the sound of their wet heartbeats inviting me in . . .

Carlisle's hand squeezed my shoulder, breaking through my overwhelmed senses. Catching my breath in my throat, I locked my jaw together with enough force to cut through stone. Guiding me with his palm, we walked through the mass of bodies, weaving a path through the mob towards an empty table.

Sitting at the table away from the mass of bodies, I found it easier to concentrate, easier to reign in the thirst that was blistering the back of my throat with its heat. Blocking them out with my other senses, I listened to their thoughts, searching for any doubt that Carlisle and I were not as human as they were.

_. . . The bronze-haired boy must be Dr. Cullen's nephew . . ._

_. . . Carlisle's boy is quite good looking, must introduce him to my Cecelia . . ._

In such a small town as this, our arrival had sent shock waves up and down the social ladder in which everyone had a well-established rung.

_. . . So beautiful – almost inhuman . . . _That caught my attention. Scanning the room, I looked for the source of the thought. . . . _Ridiculous notion, Lucy's right – must stop drinking the spirits before bed. . ._

Chuckling to myself, I continued to eavesdrop on peoples thoughts; grimacing at some of the more – _inventive _thoughts concerning both myself and Carlisle. By the way some people were thinking there was an extreme shortage of men in this town.

In the nearing two years since I had become a vampire, I had witnessed some extremely outlandish reactions to Carlisle and myself. It was extraordinary the way some humans fooled themselves into thinking that we were like them, especially when they described us as being abnormally beautiful. From the thoughts of the girls in this room, they were ill disposed to accepting what was staring them right in the face. Our beauty had not overcome their strange subconscious desire to avoid our attention, I had sat here for near on forty minutes and not a single person had spoken a word to me since I arrived.

_. . . He looks lonely . . . Maybe I should introduce myself? He's probably uncomfortable with the way Mabel's eyeing him up as a match for her daughter . . . _He's _the only one in town who wouldn't know about what happened between her daughter and Mr. Forrester's son_ . . .

I stifled a laugh as I realized my earlier assumption had been correct. In a town as small as Belfield, _nothing _escaped notice. Looking for the individual, I realized she had more bravery than the rest, as she was venturing over to talk to me in my isolated corner of the room.

"May I offer you a drink?" _Lad looks far too old to be Dr. Cullen's son . . . perhaps a relation?_

Her breath blew the heady scent of blood in my direction, and I felt a rush of venom flow to my mouth as my muscles tensed to strike. The wet beating of her heart called to me, as did the ever establishing scent of her overpowering blood as she neared me. Through the thin sheen of makeup I could see the spidery design of veins on her neck, could feel her blood warming the air in between our increasingly close bodies . . .

The door at the front of the building opened, and an icy cold wind blew across the crowd, sending goose-bumps across the skin of the humans in the building.

_. . . Edward! You don't want to do this! Do _not_ let your thirst control your life . . ._ There he stood, across the room, still talking to his companions, appearing oblivious to my struggle. Realizing he intended to let me make this decision on my own, I shook my head, I taking a deep breath through my clenched teeth before turning back to the woman.

"No thank-you, I don't drink." I said. While my newborn strength had worn off, I knew that I had the power to control myself, to prove that I was strong enough. Carlisle did it everyday, and I would practice until I mirrored his control. Flashing a wide smile, I continued. "I don't believe we've met? My name is Edward Cullen; I am Dr. Cullen's nephew." _Ah, a nephew, of course._

"I am Mrs. Harrington; this is my husband Dr. Harrington's retiring party." _I wonder why he doesn't drink . . ._

For the first time since I was transformed, I was finding myself challenged. Everything physical about being a vampire was easy – except managing the thirst – and so was every mental test. But engaging myself in a conversation with this human whilst trying to remain inconspicuous, _and _battling with the blazing heat that was oppressing my self control – that was a challenge.

"Yes, Carlisle told me all about you."

"Would you like something to eat? The appetizers are quite delicious . . ." she trailed off, looking towards the buffet.

Keeping the smile on my face, she seemed strangely at ease with me, more so than any other human I had ever seen. Perhaps she was braver than she appeared; then again, I should know that things aren't always as they appear.

***

When Carlisle appeared several hours later, I was still deep in conversation with Mrs. Harrington. I was happy to have a discussion with someone other than Carlisle, who had been my only companion. I was enjoying the chance to exercise my power on someone else, gauging her reaction, listening to her thoughts as intently as her words.

Driving home so as not to cause suspicion by running, Carlisle's elation in my success was palpable.

_. . . Not wanting to say 'I told you so,' but . . . _

Grinning, I turned to him. "I should have believed you. When I began to talk to her, I lost myself. Well, I lost my thirst.' Pausing, tried to wrap my head around the concept, I could interact with humans without hurting them. It may have only been a few hours, but I was on my way to Carlisle's restraint.

"I found talking to her to be much more, compelling, than it should have been. Trying to remain inconspicuous, but talking to someone else for the first time in almost two years was enjoyable. And her thoughts . . . well, they gave me an escape from some of the others floating around in the room . . ."

Carlisle's laugh was relieved; free from the tension my ever present pique.

"You get used to it after a while." He said, shaking his head and smiling as he sped into the driveway.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**

**Thanks to my loyal reviewers; cheesepuff311 and babes93, you guys are awesome.**

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_LAST TIME: "You get used to it after a while." He said, shaking his head and smiling as he sped into the driveway._

I was right in assuming that Belfield was a town for gossip. Whenever I sat at the window, staring out at the street, I would find myself listening to rumors, not only about the insignificant going-ons of the townspeople, but myself and Carlisle also.

Several times I found myself in the middle of their thoughts as they hypothesized my reasons for staying home. After being in Belfield for several months, the only real social event that I had gone to was Dr Harrington's farewell party.

Many women seemed to have no better use of their time than to speculate as to why Carlisle, a successful and handsome young doctor, found himself unattached. I was also interested in that question, and would find myself thinking about it for long periods of time. For a man that was over two centuries old, I was sure that he had met many people – more specifically, women.

Finally building up the courage to ask him, he seemed surprised by my question.

He walked through the door at human pace, taking off his coat as I ran down the stairs.

"Good evening Carlisle. How was work?" I asked, putting off asking him. Even though the friendship had been established, I still felt disinclined to asking him such personal questions. Nothing could shake the feeling that I was intruding on his life; clinging to him desperately, not trusting myself to go it alone. How he managed to survive the last few centuries being the only one of his kind was impossible to comprehend.

"Good. We had a boy with a broken leg, but that was probably the worst of it. How was your day, did you write any more music?"

"Not today. Actually, I was wanting to ask you a question." I hesitated, dropping my gaze to the ground.

"Fire away," he said casually, though I could feel his worry at my reaction, his concern that what I was going to ask could make me so, _nervous._

"Carlisle, why aren't you married?"

_What makes you ask that? _Genuine curiosity shone in his eyes.

"People in the town have been wondering, and it got me thinking . . ."

_You would think I had been expecting this question. I ask myself that question everyday. Two-hundred and fifty nine years old, yet still alone. When I changed you, I had been looking for a companion for almost ninety years. After leaving Aro, Cauis and Marcus, the Volturi, I set out to find others like myself. As you know, I was unsuccessful in finding any other vegetarian vampires, and so I resorted to saving you, in hopes that you would be the companion I desired. With regards to a partner, I have not succeeded in finding the right vampire, and would not change anybody with another choice. And even then, it would have to be the right person. I chose you because you were the right one. You were alone, dying. You had no other choices, no other chances. Had I found you any earlier, I doubt I would have hesitated in changing you. It is the same with a partner. What I need you to understand Edward, is that transforming someone is not something to be taken lightly. Newborn vampires can have disastrous consequences. Simply, the answer is that I have not found the right person yet._

He gave me a wry smile, and continued in taking off his coat. _What about you Edward, was there ever anybody for you?_

"You would think I was expecting that," I muttered, and Carlisle laughed. _Truly, has there _ever_ been anybody for you?_

"When I was human, all I was interested in was being a soldier, much to my mother's dismay. I went to social events with my parents, I met all the right people, had the right connections. As my mother said, 'I could have had any girl I wanted'. But I think that was the problem. I didn't want someone that wanted me for Edward Masen, the name, the title. I wanted someone who liked me for me, despite my flaws. Like you said, if I had found the right person, I would not have rested until she wore my ring on her finger. But, unfortunately, I never met her."

_Don't worry. The day is still young. And will forever be for those of us who do not age. _He laughed, and I could not stop myself laughing too.

"I guess so, if you want to look at it that way," I paused, frowning. "You mentioned Aro again. The Volturi, you called him and his brothers. Who are they?"

"Ah," Carlisle said. _Well, as I have mentioned before; Aro, Cauis and Marco are brothers, and they and their wives form what is known as the Volturi coven. They are what we call, 'Vampire Royalty' in that they have assumed a position of power._

"What do you mean, 'position of power'? I don't quite understand."

_They protect us in the sense that they ensure everybody keeps the secret. They believe that they are helping save the vampire world from discovery by destroying those that set out to ruin our secrecy._

"But how can they be such a threat? There's – six?" I questioned, not comprehending how a small clan of vampires could establish such control over a world of vampires.

_Five. Didyme died over a million years ago. But that is just the family. There is also the guard. Aro is a collector, you see, and he seeks out vampires with special talents, like you. I'm sure he could see enormous prospect in someone being able to read multiple minds from a distance. Most of his guard has some sort of formidable talent. Not all of them are exactly oppressive, but it is the way they use them. _

"Oh. So it's like when you said that just because we're vampires we have to kill. That just because you've been dealt a bad hand doesn't mean that you have to just give up completely." I said, comprehension dawning on my face.

_Yes, exactly like that._

"And you stayed with them?"

_Yes. They showed much more restraint and refinement than the vampires of seventeenth century England. While I have never agreed with their lifestyle, I cannot say that my time with them was not edifying. I stayed with them in their home in Italy. They barely ever leave the tower where they reside, not even to hunt. Their guard has the task of brining them their prey from out of the town. Volterra is one of the safest places in the world, from vampires at least._

"But if they never leave, how do they make sure that nobody finds out about us?" I asked, my curiosity stirring at the thought of new information. Ever since I had become a vampire, my thought process had changed. Things were faster, and easier. I could work out large sums in my mind, and could recall information instantly. Like my thirst for blood, my mind yearned to absorb knowledge. I didn't know if it was for a reason, or just a habit.

_They leave when they need to. On most occasions they send members of the guard to deal with trivial matters, but on occasion they leave to deal with problems of a larger scale. _

"And they . . . fight, to try and fix the problem?"

_Sometimes. Most vampires know that the Volturi is not to be trifled with, so they tend to just surrender. They know that by pleasing Aro that it will increase their chance of being pardoned. And it is never much of a fight, the immense power that that Volturi has is common knowledge. They have one Vampire, Demetri; he's a tracker, so nobody can run. Many other vampires have more, offensive, powers. Last I heard they had a set of twins, one which could burn you where you stood, and one that could take away your senses. Sight, smell, sound, everything._

"How does that help? I can't see how that would affect your chances in a fight."

_You could still try and fight, but not only would you not be able to see them, but you would most probably end up attacking your own coven._

"Oh," I said, understanding. "And how long did you stay with them?"

_A few decades, but I left after their constant attempts at swaying my belief became more than just a slight irritation._

"What did they do?" I asked, and then realized he was closing his mind to me, as he had been doing more and more regularly, thinking of the periodic table.

_Let's just say, Aro is very creative when he wants to be._


	9. Chapter Eight

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer  
Reviews are immensely appreciated.  
Thanks again to loyal reviewers babes93 and cheesepuff311, you guys are awesome**

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LAST TIME:

Let's just say, Aro is very creative when he wants to be.

Eventually I grew tired of listening to thoughts about myself, and I found myself hoping to move on soon. Carlisle had told me we could live in a town for a few years at a time before they noticed that we weren't aging. Unless, of course, I 'slipped up' again. We had only been here for ten months, yet I was already looking forward to the next place. When I asked Carlisle about where we would move to, he showed me a map of the northern states of America.

_We can only live normally, well, as normally as possible, in the north. There is too much sun to the south and we can only go out at night. There are a few small towns that I travel to regularly, every seventy years or so. I try to plan ahead, as there are several towns that I already have homes in. When you've lived as long as I have, funds tend to accumulate a lot of interest. _

"So where do you think we'll move next?" I had asked, gazing over the large map. He pointed to a small town, and on closer inspection I noticed a name. "Dauphin," I said. "Have you been there before?"

_Once, over a hundred years ago. It's a nice town, far friendlier than Belfield._

I nodded, scanning the small crosses on the map. "Are these places you've been before?"

Knowing I meant the tiny crosses, he replied, "Yes."

Counting them swiftly in my mind, I said the number quietly. "Forty-eight."

_Some them more than once. I'm sure you see that a life of never aging means that you cannot stay in one place for very long. _

Nodding my head, I imagined myself in a hundred years. Would I still be with Carlisle? How many places would we have stayed in? And, a very dark question, how many people would I have killed?

Ever since the party, I had more confidence in myself than before, but I was still unsure as to whether or not I could be in a human's presence for an extended period of time without harming them, or worse.

I turned the page and saw the southernmost part of America. "Carlisle, have you ever been to the south?"

With that, his face lost its usual calm and collected aura, and was replaced with a dark look.

_No. I haven't been to the south. There have been constant wars there for over a hundred and fifty years. Coven's fight over control of the land, and have been creating newborns to do it. As you know, newborn vampires are far stronger than their older counterparts, and so people have been using them to wage war on other covens. The Volturi came and dealt with it a few decades ago, but the wars have continued, on a lesser scale._

"And when you say 'dealt with' you mean . . ."

_Yes. Anyone with a newborn vampire was killed, and that meant that the vampire population suffered a slump for a time. _

"Right."

_It's nothing to be concerned about; I doubt that we will ever meet someone from the war torn south; they don't tend to survive long. _

I nodded, looking down at the map, now disgusted by the places it displayed. How could anybody be so bloodthirsty as to sacrifice innocent people for land? Thinking about all of the people that died made me shiver.

"I have to go to work now," Carlisle said, and I realized that he had been staring at me in my reverie.

"I have a few days off, next week, and if you wanted to, I thought we could go away to hunt. I know much you like mountain lions." He said, grinning at the last part.

The thought of hunting was a welcome distraction from the southern wars, and I agreed as Carlisle left, but for the rest of the day I found myself preoccupied, and not even my love of mountain lions could hold my attention for long.

***

Sliding into a crouch, I snarled and lunged forward at the bear, its pulse ringing in my ears and the scent drawing me closer . . .

A flick of his paw would have knocked a human unconscious, but I dodged his blow with blinding speed and leapt on his back, and flung him to the ground. A quick twist of his neck, and I bit him, my teeth slicing through the thick fur to reach the jugular vein in his throat. The blood soothed the burn in my throat, and I drank until he was empty, thrusting his carcass away from me and sprinting to Carlisle, who was finished with his buck.

Smoothing back my ruffled hair, I saw Carlisle do the same, and then straighten his shirt. My efficient and tidy hunting skills had come naturally to me, and Carlisle praised my ability to stay so clean after wrestling with a bear.

We had been up in the mountains for three days when we finally went back to the car, surreptitiously hidden away from prying eyes. The drive back was comfortable, with the dry burn in my throat subdued for the next few days.

Carlisle was relaxed, humming to himself when he caught the scent of blood, fresh and exposed.

"It's human," I hissed with my last breath.

_Listen and see if you can hear where they are._

Still holding my breath, I listened hard for someone's thoughts. He wasn't hard to find, we were almost alone in the woods. I turned my head to the north and nodded, showing Carlisle where he could find him.

_Come with me. I might need your help if they're hurt._

My eyes widened and I shook my head. With a short, sharp breath through my clenched jaw I hissed "_I can't! _I won't be able to control myself!" The air hit my throat like an open flame, burning my nostrils, and I had a sudden urge of blood lust despite having hunted only hours ago. Images of the girl in Avenmore flashed through my mind, and I shook my head.

Realizing I was sticking to my word, he nodded. _If you think it's best. I will be back soon. _He reached into the back of the car for his doctor's bag, and then shut the door, dissolving into the darkness between the trees.

I felt an immense amount of disappointment in myself, and wished that I were able to help Carlisle, but the pull of the blood was too much, even from a distance. I would be a better help away from him, so Carlisle wouldn't have to watch his back, to save him from me. I avoided listening to Carlisle's thoughts too intently, afraid of what I would see.

I sat alone in the car for about twenty minutes, left to wallow in my thoughts. The seconds dragged by slowly, yet all too quickly I heard Carlisle.

_Edward! He has lacerations to the head and chest. We need to get him to hospital immediately. _In Carlisle's mind I saw the images I had been trying to avoid_Blood-stained bandages, bruised skin, small cuts created a feather-like criss-cross pattern across his skin . . ._

_Hold your breath. _

Filling my lungs, I tensed my body, locking my muscles into place in preparation for the oncoming trial. My jaw was taut as Carlisle sprinted into view, an unconscious body in his arms.

I leaned over the seat, opening the door for him before sitting back in my seat, forcing my attention elsewhere. _Edward, you're going to have to drive, I need to keep this bleeding under control._

The scent of undulated, unsheathed human blood was alluring, far stronger than anything I had smelt before. Even holding my breath, the slow, irregular pulsing of his heart was torture. From the backseat I could feel his heat spreading throughout the car, warming me like nothing before. Catching the sight of Carlisle treating the man in the rearview mirror derailed my train of thought, and listening to his thoughts amazed me, he never once felt any struggle with the burn in his throat. His steady breaths as he gently pressed on the man's head may have been encouraging, but I couldn't know as all of Carlisle's thoughts were concerning the injured man.

Determined to do Carlisle proud, I slid across the seat, pulling the gearshift up and pressing my foot on the accelerator. With one eye on Carlisle in the backseat, I sped all the way into town before slowing as I entered the main street. Pulling into the hospital car park, my mind was full of images of Carlisle treating the man. Carlisle lifted him out, sparing a thought for me; _Go home, _before carrying him through the doors. I waited in the car for a few minutes, unsure of what I should do, before realizing that nothing Carlisle had ever told me to do had lead me into trouble. Turning the steering wheel, I drove smoothly into the street, driving home with my eyes on the road.

Considering I had just spent half an hour with a bleeding man, I wasn't impressed with my self-control. For once, I wasn't praising my restraint, but more admiring Carlisle's. Not only had he refrained from _killing_ him himself, but he had saved him. Turning off the car, I sat in the driver's seat as the night grew steadily darker, trying unsuccessfully not to think.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.  
Thank you to all reviewers.**

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_LAST TIME: Turning off the car, I sat in the driver's seat as the night grew steadily darker, trying unsuccessfully not to think._

Carlisle came home just after midnight, and found me sitting in the car. He didn't say anything, and seemed to be avoiding thoughts about the man from the woods. Opening the passenger door, he slid into the seat and sat there with me. Neither of us moved, we simply sat until the night faded into dawn.

Finally breaking the silence, Carlisle's words were soft, carefully worded in an attempt to not set me off.

"The hospital gave me the day off work." He kept his steady gaze on my face, but I did not turn to face him, preferring to simply stare out the windscreen as I had been all night. Realizing I wasn't going to respond, he sighed, and launched into a speech that he must have prepared before he got home, because I hadn't heard him think about it.

"Edward, I am not disappointed in you. You did very well to keep your thirst in check. You act far more mature than you are, and I need to remember that you are only three years old. I am proud of you for realizing that the bloodlust would be too much for you, and staying in the car. It takes a great deal more to admit your shortcomings than it does to state your strengths. I must admit I was prepared to save you from yourself if you had tried to attack the injured man, but I didn't need to. You did far more than I had any right to expect and you need to realize this. The man is fine, and he is truly grateful to us for saving him."

Taking my eyes from the windscreen, I turned to face him. "You aren't disappointed in me?" I whispered, voicing my fear that he would resent me for my cowardice.

"Edward, once again, I could never be disappointed in you."

"Carlisle," I said, and he eyed me warily. _Yes?_

I paused, and tried to frame the question. "Could you show me what you did to stop the bleeding?"

His face broke into a wide grin, relieving the tension as he launched into an explanation of the circulatory system.

I'd thought good and hard about Carlisle's medical skills when I had arrived home. The idea of saving people, despite being designed to kill intrigued me, and ideas began to form. I knew that I would never be able to be a doctor, perpetually looking like a seventeen year-old, but I liked the idea of knowing that I _could _save someone if I wanted to.

Carlisle and I discussed medicine for the rest of the day, eventually moving into the house so he could show me some pictures in one of his medical textbooks.

For a second time, I felt a connection with Carlisle, one that ran deeper than the fact that we both abstained from human blood. I felt . . . _proud _to think that Carlisle, so like a father to me, had stuck with what he believed in for hundreds of years, despite people trying to convince him otherwise. His strength was far more than simply not killing humans; he also tried to atone for the sins of our kind by saving humans. No one forced him to do this, but it was a choice he had made alone, and in that decision he segregated himself from everyone else in the universe. Never before had there been someone with as much care and compassion as Carlisle Cullen, the vegetarian vampire doctor.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Ok, it's time for some major apoligies!  
I didn't realize that I hadn't posted chapter 10, and I skipped to chapter 11, so for people who were confused: that's why!  
To make up for it though, I'll post chapter 12 too, and chapter 13 should be coming along soon. It's been the holidays but I've been studing for exams so writing was not quite at the top of my to do list. I promise that I will try my hardest to update regulary though!!!**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**

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_LAST TIME: Never before had there been someone with as much care and compassion as Carlisle Cullen, the vegetarian vampire doctor._

The routine of our days remained more or less the same, but in the evenings Carlisle would teach me everything he knew about medicine. During the day I would sometimes play the piano, or 'people watch', but most of the time I would read one of Carlisle's many medical journals. When he got home he would quiz me, which seemed pointless due to my perfect recall, but it was an amusing way to pass a few minutes.

I was in the middle of _Modern Medical Mysteries _when I heard him coming home. Curious as to why he would come home in the middle of the day, why he would be running, and why he would use the back door, I went to meet him.

_Edward, hold your breath. _As per usual, I followed his instructions, and I heard a weak heart beat as he lifted a battered human into the house. _Take the vase off the dining table. _Darting ahead of him to clear the table, I caught a glimpse of the humans face. It was a woman, pale and bruised, with a head of long, caramel colored hair. She was dressed in a threadbare gown, her arms and legs twisted around the damp fabric. Swiftly scanning her body, I noticed it was covered in bruises. A multitude of cuts gleamed on her bare arms and legs. Bones stuck out at odd angles and each breath, as short and fleeting as it was, seemed to take a world of effort.

Scooping up the vase, I stepped out of the way to allow Carlisle into the room. Gazing into her mind, I noticed it was consumed with thoughts of a young boy. I was about to mention this to Carlisle when I saw him set her down gently on the table. As he smoothed her hair with one hand, he placed his fingers on her wrist, taking her pulse. Realizing what he was about to do, I wasn't sure what I should do. While he seemed to be feeling some connection with this woman, I could see in her mind that she had suffered far more than anybody should ever have to. Would she be willing to accept what we were, and what she would become? Both ideas chased each other around my head, and before I could voice my concerns, he dropped her wrist.

_Esme, _He thought as he leaned over the woman, placing his lips at her throat. So swiftly I couldn't be sure he did it, he kissed her neck once before biting.

Standing up, he darted to her side, and picked up her arm tenderly before biting her wrist, the crease at her arm.

He bit her in several more places before straightening up and walking swiftly to my side. I was confused. I was breathing calmly, the scent of venom in her system had curing me completely of any bloodlust. His face was set as he steered me out of the room, glancing at me every few seconds as if I were about to spontaneously self-combust.

Stepping into the never used kitchen, Carlisle's eyes were on me as Esme's screams pierced the air, ringing through the house. The back of my mind registered a small tingling feeling. It was a warming sensation, spreading throughout my body. Uncomfortable, yes, but I was more worried about what was concerning Carlisle.

"What's wrong?"

His eyes darted back to the door through which Esme lay, burning and screaming in terror. _You're ok? _

"Of course, what would be wrong?"

He sighed, and rubbed his hands over his eyes, glancing up at my face as he thought _You aren't hurt?_

"What would be hurting me?"

_Her. I thought that if her thoughts were consumed by the burning sensation, that it might cause you some pain._

"Oh. I can feel it a little, its like a warm, tingling feeling," It was strange, like nothing I'd felt before in my time as a vampire. "But it's nothing, really." I paused, trying to frame a question without being rude.

"Who was that? Why are you changing her?" I asked, listening intently to Carlisle's thoughts as he remembered finding her.

_Her name is Esme. I treated her for a broken leg a few years ago. I recognized her instantly. I found her when I was taking a patient to the morgue, she was there too. Everyone thought she was dead, but I could hear her heart. It was faint, but I had to save her – she had no other choices._

"What happened to her, to make her . . . like that?"

_She jumped off a cliff. She was in hospital a few days ago, she had a son . . . but he died. They think it was a suicide attempt._

I nodded, remembering the picture of a boy in her mind as Carlisle brought her in. "What now? We can't stay in Belfield, not anymore."

_She may decide to go off on her own. It's her choice. But we shall have to leave anyway, avoid suspicion. I'll give the hospital my notice. I'll tell them I have to leave – family emergency. We'll go in a few days, once the transformation is complete. As for her, I don't know._

He looked back towards the door, and I could see a sense of longing stirring in his eyes.

"I'll be fine." I said quietly, and with that, he was through the door in a flash, and I could hear him listening to her breathing . . . _The volume of a cylinder equals one third . . . _He was blocking his thoughts from me again.

Standing alone in the kitchen, I was unsure of what to do. Deciding that I may as well hunt if we were going to be moving soon, I dashed out the door listening for the thumping of deer hooves on the ground. Just before I jumped into the dense forest, I thought back to our conversation on why Carlisle hadn't changed anybody before me.

"Is she the right one?" I mused before leaping into the bushes.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**I just wanted to say a huge thank you to the people who have been steadily reviewing this story. It means a lot, so this chapter is dedicated to you.**

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_LAST TIME: "Is she the right one?" I mused before leaping into the bushes._

I stayed in the woods, hunting for the two days straight. The constant blood flow may have temporarily stifled the burn in my throat, but the solitude that the forest emanated felt like a knife in my chest. The feeling of isolation stunned me as never before in my life as a vampire, nor in my human life had I ever felt the need for human company.

I went back to the house at one point to see how Esme was, but I felt like I was intruding on something private. It was as if I had just walked in off the street and interrupted an interment. Carlisle wasn't much of a conversationalist, preferring to simply pack the few belongings we would be taking with us while listening to Esme's thrumming heart.

It had been nearly three days. Comparing her change with mine, I realized that the transformation must be nearing completion, I ran back to the house, listening for Carlisle's thoughts as I went.

Stepping swiftly through the back door, I heard a fast beating, a steady rhythm that was increasing in tempo with each breath. Her mind was still full of thoughts about the pain, a pain that was slowly receding from her fingers and toes.

_She knows what we are; she managed to stop screaming long enough to listen._

"What does she think about what she's becoming?" I asked softly, my eyes on her face as I listened to the steady beating of her heart.

_I don't know. She just kept whispering 'My boy, my baby.'_

"I know; I saw a baby in her mind when you brought her in."

_Once she realized what was happening, she stopped screaming. I tried talking to her, but she's clammed up. I don't know if she will want to stay with us, or if she will want to go off on her own._

"It'll be fine Carlisle. Don't worry. I think -" I stopped, as the tempo of her heart rose, her pulse beating faster and faster, and in her mind I saw her register that the pain was beginning to recede from her limbs. Her breathing increased, and in one swift motion her body contorted, her hands balled into fists as she brought her legs up to her chest. She screamed, her face furrowed in pain as her heart's erratic cadence pounded, almost as if it knew its beats were numbered . Twisting her body, the thin gown exposed her leg, and I noticed that her skin was smooth now, paler, every bruise, every cut; gone. Through her pale skin, the newly strengthened muscles were visible, each one flexing with every move she made.

Her heart was beating at an alarming rate, and I knew it could not hold out much longer. It had been pumping the venom around her body, both saving her and killing her in a single act. Her heart gave one last beat before faltering and becoming silent.

She lay on the table for a few seconds more, breathing deeply as she gauged where she was. In her mind, I could hear her picking out our breathing, deciding if we posed a threat. She was the first newborn I'd ever met, and the fact that I was like her less than three years ago startled me.

"Esme? It's me, Carlisle. You're ok; you're just a little . . . different." He phrased the words carefully, and I monitored her reaction vigilantly; noting each and every thought.

A flash of movement and she was up, half crouched over the table with her scarlet eyes flashing, darting across the room in flickering movements, never resting on a single place for more than a millisecond.

"Esme, do you remember what I told you before, about what we are? About what _you _are now?" He kept his voice calm, an inviting smile on his face. Each of his movements was slow and exaggerated. He walked tentatively around the room, and I shadowed his movements, afraid to leave him exposed to this irrepressible being standing three paces away from us.

Her lips were pursed, but she gave a sharp nod, her crimson eyes slowly focusing on his calm face . _. . Carlisle – I remember . . . _Her hard look melted as he cautiously took her hand, and she slowly relaxed her stance. I dropped my gaze, feeling as though I was intruding once again; but I could still see them in each others mind, and although they seemed content to stare into each others eyes the awkward silence began to make me feel uncomfortable.

In the distance I could hear a distinct humming.

_It's a car! _Carlisle thought urgently, and swiftly gripped the tops of her shoulders. I planted myself firmly in front of her, focusing my mind on hers, looking for a manic gleam in her eyes as the car drove past the house, and along with it the delectable scent of human blood. The set of her head altered slightly and her muscles tensed, ready to leap straight through the window. Carlisle's grip on her arms tightened sharply, and she involuntary grasped his wrist with her hand. Her nostrils flared as she glared at him, but the distraction had cut through her reverie. Even though her bloodlust had subsided ever so slightly, Carlisle's hold on her arms remained steady. She flexed, and Carlisle gasped as he bent away from her grasp. Realizing what she was doing, she released him, and stepped back; her eyes wide with fear.

The distinct humming passed by, fading slowly into the distance. Carlisle got up slowly, flexing his arm as he did so making sure it was completely healed. Glancing at her red eyes, I deftly maneuvered past her to open the back door. She needed to hunt, and soon.

***

We ran into the forest, my mind scanning the area for any humans. Until I was sure I couldn't hear them, see them, or smell them, Carlisle kept a close grip on Esme's shoulders. She hadn't spoken since she . . . did whatever it was we did. I walked a few steps ahead of them, as a feeling of being superfluous had settled over me. I could hear every word that Carlisle said to Esme, and in her thoughts I could hear her swallowing it all in. It felt rude to listen to her thoughts, not just because I had not disclosed my gift, but in the way everything saw to her.

In her mind she saw everything, noticing every leaf and describing it to herself. She observed the delicate leaves, noting the angle, the color. The way the shadows were cast on the ground, the outlines they drew on the tree trunks. But all of these things were dim in comparison to the way she saw Carlisle. All vampires were inhumanly beautiful, but her view of Carlisle was astonishing. She analyzed each angle of his face, the way the light reflected from his perfect teeth and blonde hair. The way his lips turned up at the edges when he smiled, and the distinct slant of his head.

"We're alone," I muttered quietly, interrupting their conversation. The words hung heavy on my tongue, sensing that when I said we, I was desperately linking myself to the group on the other side of the clearing. With Carlisle and I, there was always a feeling of belonging. We were two oddities among the abnormal. I now had a slight feeling of reverse-fishbowl effect. Instead of feeling as though I was being watched, I was on the outside looking in, my face pressed up against the glass wall which separated me from the only people I had left in the world.

Despite the warm air, a sudden chill had come over me; and try as I might, I could not shake the feeling that there had been a shift in the universe, leaving me hanging on to the edge for dear life.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**_LAST TIME: Despite the still air, a sudden chill had come over me; and try as I might, I could not shake the feeling that there had been a shift in the universe, leaving me hanging on to the edge for dear life. _

* * *

As I had been hunting less than a few hours previous, I stood back while Carlisle taught Esme how to listen for the distinct heartbeats; to taste the air on her tongue; to sense the aroma of blood as the wind carried them through the forest. Esme stood, drinking everything in as Carlisle leapt across the clearing towards a tree where he crouched to absorb the impact.

Watching Esme hunt was not as bad as I thought it would be. Far from the uncouth hunt I expected, Esme was graceful in every sense of the word. She leapt in an elegant arc towards the unsuspecting prey; smiling, and the dim rays of light reflected off the surface of her teeth in a beautiful multi-color spectrum. From my place amongst the trees on the outskirts of the clearing, I could almost hear a slight falter in Carlisle's ever present aura, and even he seemed startled by the occurrence.

The relief from the burn in her throat was evident on her face, and she leapt into the dense forest in a matter of seconds, listening to the steady heartbeats of the credulous deer. Carlisle and I followed, falling a few steps behind so as not to interrupt her hunt. Carlisle turned his head and I could still see a faint scar, an example of what could happen if you came between a vampire and his prey.

I jumped silently into the thick branches of the tree, landing next to Carlisle where he sat watching Esme as she sent herds of deer scattering through the shaded forest. We sat, watching her soundless, stealthy movements, not speaking, but somehow an unspoken agreement filled the air. I could see from the corner of my eye that Carlisle's gaze did not leave Esme the whole time that we sat there, together in that tree.

We remained in the woods until darkness had settled over the woods, the unusually starry sky glinting down on us in a seemingly ominous fashion.

***

Driving on the roads not-often-traveled, Carlisle and I sat in the front, with Esme sitting quietly in the back. Before we left, I had tried to offer her my seat, it being the gentlemanly thing to do, but she had refused simply stating that she would rather sit in the back.

After hunting, Carlisle had tried to get Esme to open up, telling her about his experiences in the many years that had passed since the seventeenth century. She smiled at all the right points, and laughed where appropriate, but you could tell her heart wasn't in it. Her lips trembled at times, and if I hadn't known it were impossible, I would have sworn she was about to cry. Eventually, when the resounding silence in the car had become unnerving, I told her about my transformation and she seemed to feel compelled to tell her story. Esme she opened up, speaking quietly and fleetingly about her life before Carlisle found her in the morgue, but brushing over things that had happened in the last few days of her human life.

I knew that when she told us of her husband dying in the pandemic that she was lying, but in her fragile emotional state as a newborn I felt averse to questioning her about it. Carlisle seemed to believe the lie easily, but realizing she felt reluctant to discuss it, he brought up the topic of gifts, asking her questions to establish whether or not she was gifted in anyway. She had been unsure of the term, and Carlisle had mentioned my mind-reading prowess in the process. At the mere mention of my knowledge of her thoughts, she clammed up, attempting to think as little as possible. I didn't blame her; _I _would have found it eerie if my thoughts were being listened to.

We turned onto a winding country road, and in doing so left the comforting shade of the trees. As our car entered a shaft of light, I could see the car flooded with tiny rainbows, reflected off our skin. Esme's gasp filled the air as she glimpsed Carlisle and I glittering like diamonds in the sun. I leaned over the back of the seat and nodded in her direction. She looked down at her own clasped hands, glinting away in the sunlight and became silent. Her mind filled with thoughts, each one passing faster than the last. I tried to listen, interested in what she thought of us, but ultimately I stopped when she noticed me staring; I realized I was eavesdropping.

_Did his mother never tell him it was rude to eavesdrop? _she thought, not in a vicious way, but with the tone that a mother would use to scold a child. But the meaning behind the thought was obvious; and it cut me deep to the quick.

I'd never thought of my gift as such before. It was such an engraved part of me that I didn't give it a second thought when Carlisle and I had conversations with only a small amount of speaking on my part.

I found the idea confusing; that my power was wrong. I thought back to my mother as I did sometimes when I felt alone or confused. Carlisle had told me (actually, I had 'heard' him) that she had wanted this for me; she had wanted me to live like this. She had wanted so many more things for me. She wanted me to be a musician, to grow up and get married, have children, to _live_. Thinking harder, I sifted through the murky memories of my human childhood; my first piano lesson . . . the first time I was allowed to stay up to dinner . . . getting up early on Christmas morning . . . Mother catching me listening to father's meeting . . .

"_You must always do what's right Edward, do you understand? You have a good head on your shoulders, you must use it. You are going to grow up to be a bright young man. Use your intelligence and keep out of trouble. You are special; I can see it in your eyes. Just do everything you can to help make this world a better place." _That's what she had said to me when. But didn't that statement just cancel itself out? If eavesdropping was a bad thing, then I wouldn't do it. But then she said that I needed to do everything I can to make this world a better place. So, if I were helping someone, was it alright to listen in on people's thoughts? And what if listening to someone actually made things for them worse? Even if it helped somebody else? Would the best thing be to not use my power at all? But then I wouldn't be doing everything I could. She had told Carlisle to do everything in his power, even though theoretically it 'killed me'. Isn't murder a sin?

As I debated with myself internally, I could hear Carlisle continually trying to initiate conversation with Esme. Eventually he gave up, and decided to let her alone. The silence became unbearable, and I found myself listening to the deserted countryside to drive thoughts of right and wrong out of my mind.

Driving west, thoughts of Dauphin and the new town played at the edges of my mind. Would the people there be kinder? Would they let their thirst for gossip overpower their desire to stay away?

And most importantly, how would they perceive our family, now that Esme had joined? Turning towards the blinding sun, I leaned back and shut my eyes, willing the emptiness of sleep to come.

Somehow, it always evaded me.


	14. Author's Note 1

Hey guys!

First, I must apologize for not updating. Lately, I have been going through a few things that make it hard for me to find time to write. Hopefully, next year updates will be a bit more regular.

Second, I want to thank everyone who has read my story. I really appreciate it, and the reviews are what make me update.

So I hope everyone has a merry Christmas, and a great new year!

Thanks,

Parvulus of Ink


	15. Chapter Thirteen

**This chapter has been by far the hardest to write. Edward was not very forthcoming with his tale of Esme's arrival to the family. I spent a large portion of my time writing and re-writing this chapter, but I found it very hard to get right. This is probably my 7****th**** version, and still I feel as though something is missing. However, I felt obliged to update for those of you who continue to read and review, and I thank you for that. On the plus side, I'm pretty sure this is my longest chapter yet. Enjoy!**

* * *

_LAST TIME: Turning towards the blinding sun, I leaned back and shut my eyes, willing the emptiness of sleep to come. Somehow, it always evaded me._

We arrived to silence in the town of Dauphin, which was unsurprising, as our appearance occurred under the dark blanket of night. The house was small, full of out-dated furniture coated in dust. Carlisle informed us that he had not stayed in this house since the late 1870's. Esme's face showed signs of awe, and I could hear in her mind that she had only just begun to grasp exactly _how _long Carlisle had been in existence. She stared, captivated, at his being, and Carlisle, who had noticed the incident, attempted to ignore her astonished gaze and continued to talk about the house. I swear, were possible, Carlisle would have blushed. The air between them seemed to fizz, with an almost palpable energy, and yet neither of them acknowledged it. Carlisle continued to speak, and Esme continued to drink in his every word.

Soon enough, Carlisle came on to the topic of work. When Esme heard that he was going to be leaving, she seemed startled. I soon saw the thoughts behind the anxious expression. She was worried about what would happen if humans approached the house. The memory of the car was still at the forefront of her mind, and the way she had reacted to Carlisle's grip scared her. It was such a sudden occurrence, to have such strength when she seemed to feel so powerless. I scanned out, listening for any human thoughts. This house was further out of town than the one we had lived in Belfield, and I could only hear that down by the river, people were fishing. And the river was more than two miles away.

"You'll be fine. We're all alone out here." I whispered, leaning forward. She shied away from me as I stood a few inches from her ear, leaning towards her from behind. Realizing what she had done, she tried to cover her frightened expression with a small smile.

"I'm not worried," she said quietly, her eyes flickering to the ground when she spoke.

The first sign of a lie.

"I'm fine." she whispered, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

Second sign.

"Well, I have to get ready to go to work now," Carlisle said loudly, clapping his hands and rubbing them together as if his fingers were cold. "And then I'll be going." Esme's frightened look returned, and she shot him a glance.

"Perhaps the two of you could go hunting? It has been a while." I rolled my eyes exasperatingly. _Bear with me Edward, _Carlisle thought,_ you know she's thirsty, all newborns are, and she can't hunt safely on her own yet . . . _

I nodded to both statements, thinking longingly of my neglected piano.

"Come on Esme," I said, trying to hide my less than enthusiastic tone. "Let's hunt." As much as I tried to think of Esme, I knew there were no mountain lions in the immediate area, which did not make for much fun.

Her eyes were wary as we stepped out the back door. I rifled through her thoughts and saw that she was worrying about being out without Carlisle. She didn't think that I could restrain her alone. I thought about the idea of her winning in a fight, remembering the discussion that  
Carlisle and I had once about fighting newborns.

"_Newborn vampires rely very much on their strength. They're like children, really; they're easy to defeat if you know their weaknesses. Due to their young age, they depend greatly on their instincts; they have no knowledge of fighting, no experience to guide them. If you know what you're dealing with, you can pick them off like flies."_

Carlisle and I had sparred before, as he informed me that the ability to fight was an essential skill for all vampires, but I'd never really _fought_ anyone before, and the idea that Esme could overpower me with sheer strength was almost frightening. She wasn't small, but petite in a way that made her seem fragile. Her thoughts kept running away with her, but what confused me most of all was the way that her mind seemed to teeter on the edge of sanity, as though she could snap at any moment. I was unsure if vampires could loose their grip on reality and simply go mad.

Looking back to the house from the fringe of the woods, I could see Carlisle gazing at us from the second story window, seeming to have picked up on my fear of losing control of Esme.

_You will be fine. Just make sure that you check the area for humans before you let her loose. She won't attack anyone unless they are bleeding or come extremely near. As it is the middle of the night, I do not expect either to occur. Once again, _you will be fine.

A quarter of a second passed where I realized two things. Firstly, that Carlisle's mental tone had taken a different pitch when he thought about Esme attacking humans. It was not only his desire to protect the humans from what we were, but it also caused him physical pain to think of Esme like that. It seemed strange, but the feelings he was developing for Esme were getting stronger by the minute.

I nodded, hiding my smile, and then disappeared into the woods with Esme, who had been standing just hidden by the branches of the forest.

As we ran, I searched the woods for any humans. I gave the all clear to Esme, and together we tracked down a pair of hibernating bears. I drew back to let her take the lead, feeling her desire for the kill. Simultaneously draining our prey, we retreated from the cave where the bears lay and dove back into the dense brush of trees.

XXX

Our life soon settled into a strict pattern. Monday through Friday, Carlisle would work at the hospital. I myself would while away the days on my new piano, which I had delivered while Carlisle took Esme hunting. Esme seemed to slip seamlessly into her role as lady of the house. Before her arrival, Carlisle and I hadn't exactly been _messy_, but we hadn't invested much by way of cleaning. Every day, Esme would spend hours dusting and tidying, unscrupulously waging war on the dirt that had accumulated over the passing years, and for some strange reason, at human pace. She would move ornaments from here to there, rearranging pillows and furniture; unfortunately Carlisle seemed to favor the minimalist approach which meant that she soon she found herself without anything to do.

It was these moments that I had begun to dread. When she was busy her mind was focused on her task, but as soon as she was unoccupied, she contemplated a small baby boy with a tuft of caramel colored hair. Sometimes she would spend hours simply staring into space, visualizing holding the baby in her arms, swaddling him, kissing his tiny head. I, who had never felt the urge to be a father, found it increasingly hard to have my thoughts consumed by this infant. I tried to block it out, but, as it had been so many times before, the effort was fruitless.

Soon enough I would lament this baby boy, my fingers frozen on the keys. By the time Carlisle got home, the house would be silent except for the ticking of the clock in the entrance hall. It would take perhaps ten seconds for Esme to break out of her reverie. Then she would dash to the front door in a great show of newborn strength, and welcome him home.

Unable to sit and have dinner together, we would often spend the evenings in the living room. Carlisle would recount his day, often disclosing a new medical fact for my knowledge. Esme was consistent, asking a well-thought out question of Carlisle about his past each and everyday. Sometimes I would play a piece I had written on my piano that day, but I would always feel strange by this point. The invisible bond between Carlisle and Esme would become more pronounced, and I often felt as though I was forcing my way into the conversation. They seemed to be so contempt to just sit in one another's company, communicating with out words. Though I was the master at that, it was the one time I felt lost in a sea of covert glances and smiles.

Despite my ability to see the thoughts behind those actions, it did not help my decode them. I felt as I had when I was first tall enough to open the door to my father's study unaided, all those years ago. In his office was a whole wall covered in a bookcase, holding many hundreds of volumes. By standing on his chair, I could reach the top shelf where he stored the biggest, shiniest books. If I was careful, I could pull it down quietly, without alerting anyone to my actions. I would sit at his mahogany desk, my legs unable to reach the ground, and flick through the dusty pages, staring at the elegant print on the white paper. If I traced my finger beneath the line, I could follow the words enough to sound them out, but I still found myself unable to comprehend. Complex sounding nouns accompanied by strange diagrams and explanations did not make for light reading when you're only a child. As confused as I had felt then, it had nothing on the way I felt now.

After spending what seemed like an eternity gazing into each others eyes, they would excuse themselves to hunt, traveling far enough away into the dense brush of trees and shrubs for their thoughts to escape me.

Alone in the house, I was left to my own thoughts. Unable to bear contemplating whatever Esme and Carlisle were doing, I threw myself at my piano, and through music vented all the feelings trapped inside me. Unfortunately, since becoming a vampire, the action did not hold my consciousness as it had before. It was then that my mind returned to the unnamed boy in Esme's mind, and I felt more alone than ever.

* * *

**I feel as though I'm not conveying much of the 'vampire-ness' of Edward's story, but simply describing the emotional turmoil he was going through at this point. What do you think? Review please! **


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Yes, I'm back! I'm quite proud of this chapter, so I shan't keep you from it with an overly long pre-chapter author's note!**

XXX

Our life soon settled into a strict pattern. Monday through Friday, Carlisle would work at the hospital. I myself would while away the days on my new piano, which I had delivered while Carlisle took Esme hunting. Esme seemed to slip seamlessly into her role as lady of the house. Before her arrival, Carlisle and I hadn't exactly been _messy_, but we hadn't invested much by way of cleaning. Every day, Esme would spend hours dusting and tidying. She would move ornaments from here to there, rearranging pillows and furniture; unfortunately Carlisle seemed to favor the minimalist approach which meant that she soon she found herself without anything to do. Sometimes she would sit with me, enthralled by the way my fingers moved sinuously across the keys. She smiled, humming along with the familiar tunes in her head. It was good to have an audience – I hadn't had one for so long.

Today she seemed agitated. Her behavior was erratic, irregular – she could barely concentrate on something for longer than a few minutes. Finally she stilled, sinking in to the window seat beside my piano, she stared out the window, almost wistfully. My fingers froze on the piano as I watched her intently, slowly sweeping through her mind. She turned suddenly, her dark eyes burning in to mine as she whispered 'May we hunt?'

She had been pushing her thirst lately, and this request was obviously her realizing her boundaries.

"Sure," I said slowly, packing away my papers. She was avoiding eye contact, embarrassed at the inability to control the raging burn that we all felt day after day.

We cut through the forest like a knife, reaching the space where the trees grow closer together within minutes. I felt no need to hunt, but with Esme's newborn thirst still present, it was safer for all of us that she did not leave the home alone. Leaping in amongst the branches of a nearby tree, I gestured with my hand that she should begin.

I was able to read her mind now that she was less focused on keeping her thoughts private and more occupied with controlling her burning desire to slaughter the next thing that moved. Here she let herself truly breath, whereas at home she would be quite content to simply sit and hold her breath for fear of hurting mortals.

Embarrassed by my watching her, I loudly turned on my branch, gazing out at the woods from my perch. I heard her leap into the brush from behind me, stalking a deer. I drifted off, my fingers tracing an imaginary tune against the bark, yearning for my piano like a drug, when…

A scream ripped through the air. Barely pausing to gather my thoughts, I launched myself from the branch, gliding through the air with a determined look in my eye. As my feet hit the ground I pushed off against the dirt, barely noticing the tree branches whipping against my arm as I pushed myself forward, aware of how far I had let Esme roam, cursing inwardly at my stupidity.

A strange sight befell my eyes as I stepped into the small clearing. Esme was crouched protectively in front of a heavily pregnant deer, her stance directed towards a bewildered hunter holding a crossbow. She snarled, and her mind showed none of the tenderness it once felt. Her thoughts were feral, and so I slowed my pace, not wanting to provoke an attack. She was a newborn, unaware of her actions – I did not want to hurt her.

Several broken arrows crunched underfoot, telling me that this foolish man had already tried and failed to incapacitate her. Esme's thoughts turned from protective to attacking in the blink of an eye, and it was too late for me to intervene. The man died several feet away from where I stood; the life in his eyes gone within seconds. When he ran dry, the illicit scent of his blood gone, Esme seemed to come back to her senses, throwing his lifeless body into the nearby bush before sinking to the ground, dry sobs racking her body.

"Esme," I whispered, touching her lightly on the shoulder. At my touch, she stood silently, darting back towards the deer in the middle of the clearing.

She crouched down in the damp earth beside its head, tracing a path from its ears to its chest with soft strokes. Its breathing was labored, its stomach swollen. Protruding from its neck was an arrow similar to the one I had stepped on.

"I know how it feels to be unable to protect your baby too," Esme whispered. I grew suddenly uncomfortable, very aware that she was not talking to me. "You'll be alright."

The pregnant deer let out one last gasp, managing to lift its head enough to meet Esme's eyes before it lay back down and was still.

XXX

I had stood and watched as Esme tenderly lifted the deer and carried it to a place in the trees. Quickly digging a hole in the damp earth, nothing was left but a smooth mound. Soon, there would be nothing visible but the grass that would sprout in the spring. I kept waiting for the death of the hunter to come crashing down, shattering her reality. It was impossible that someone so kind as Esme would not become distraught by becoming a mu – no, it _was_ an accident.

I looked at her, reading her mind as her face held no clues. Her thought pattern was rough, inconsistent. Everything in her mind was rushing past at a hundred miles an hour, the only thing she could settle on was the fact that her eyes – which had been a watered-down burgundy color earlier – now shone almost as vividly as they had on the night of her transformation.

Esme leapt into the trees, swinging from branch to branch like a child on the monkey bars before she hit the ground running, disappearing in the darkness that had fallen. I thought about how long we had been in the forest before I realized what had happened last time I let Esme roam and followed her scent through the trees.

It didn't take me long to reach her – she stood silently amongst the trees that bordered our backyard. The light was on in the house, and Carlisle's car was in the drive. The awkward silence had settled between us again, and I could think of nothing else to do but return to the house. I was shocked when Esme clutched my lower arm, the strength of her grip startling me.

_Edward, the hunter…_ she thought in a panicked tone, glancing at Carlisle's silhouette through the window. I shook my head – it wasn't important. She didn't realize that I would return in the evening and ensure it appeared that an animal attack had occurred. Using her vice-like grip to my advantage, I tugged her forward, opening the door to a most delicious scent.

Carlisle stood at the table, unpacking a box filled to the brim with catalogues. Almost every home ware store in the state was represented, the stack nearly a foot high. Lying on the table next to the box was the source of the luscious smell, a bunch flowers, freesias so fresh that their petals were still laced with dew.

Though it occurred at vampire speed, I felt as though time had slowed to a snail's pace. Esme stumbled into the room behind me, and Carlisle turned to her, a smile on his face. Her gaze widened as she saw the table, and Carlisle could not hide his gasp at the sight of her eyes. He stepped forward to reach for her hand, but she darted out the back door.

Turning to me, I did not need to be able to read minds to understand the confusion he felt.

"What happened?" he said tonelessly.

XXX

From the house, I could see Esme sitting on the roof, her legs curled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. She stared up at the moon, sighing as she wriggled her toes against the cold corrugated iron.

Her mind was unusually quiet, for once she was not noticing the beauty around her, admiring the shadows cast by the moon, the delicate webs the spiders had spun throughout the day. All she could think about was the taste of human blood and the crestfallen face of Carlisle when he had seen her.

It looked so wrong, to have such a soft face look as disconsolate as she did, and so I quietly unlatched the back door and leapt silently onto the roof beside her.

"Hi Esme," I whispered.

Her face, which had been turned up to the moon, looked down at her feet, avoiding my gaze.

"Look, I know what you're going through right now . . ." I started quietly.

She let out an ear-splitting snarl as she launched herself from the roof. Landing on the ground with a slight thump, she darted away from the house as fast as possible, exercising all of her newborn strength.

I sighed, and let her have a head start. As much as I wanted to talk to her, I relished any chance to stretch my legs.

Slowly counting to three, I leapt just as quickly off the iron roof as she had, but rather than focusing solely on reaching the ground, I exerted more pressure and landed further into the dense bush; following her clear scent as I dodged the trees. Feeling freer than ever before, I pushed myself further, harder, feeling my legs lift me off the ground, taking me closer and closer to Esme with each step.

Suddenly her scent veered off to the left, and I dug my heels into the ground as I changed course, stopping short as I saw her, immobile and unmoving as she gazed out at the clearing in front of her. The exertion that I had felt from running full pelt full out

"Esme?" I said carefully, slowly walking towards her with my arms out, palms up.

Light as a breeze, I could hear her dry sobs as I took her in my arms, rocking her slowly. Despite being almost ten years older than me physically, she was a head shorter and as she leaned into me, her head fell forward to rest on my shoulder, hugging me close.

In her mind, I saw her remembering the way she bit into the man's neck, how her teeth cut through the flesh like butter. She imagined the feel of human blood rushing down her throat, and the _taste_…

Flames roared to life in the back of my throat, and my jaw clenched tight. I scanned out around me, listening for any stray hunters; but everything in the forest was still. Esme felt my muscles tighten and she looked up at me, her crimson eyes searching my face as only a mother could.

And it was at that moment that I realized that was how I thought of Esme. She had been in my life for such a short time, and yet I already couldn't fathom her absence.

She suddenly pulled away from me, looking at the grassy field with forlorn eyes, her lower lip trembling. Walking to the middle of the clearing, she rotated slowly, her gaze taking in every tree, every leaf, every blade of glass. As she did so, she brought her hands up to her mouth, covering her pink lips as she let out a hoarse whisper, "Edward, what have I done?"

XXX

**Well, I hope that this makes up for such a long break between posts! (That is, if you are still reading – I wouldn't be surprised if you had all given up on me!)**

**I'm hoping to begin posting on a more regular basis, but I will admit that this is turning out to be a very hard part of Edward's story to write. I have so many ideas once the rest of the family joins the picture, but until then, I'm afraid you will have put up with my poor attempts at moving this story along.**

**Thank-you!**


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